Seeing past the Mask

Work is strange, strained. The Mouth has taken to wearing fine clothes to work, inappropriate clothes. Our office is nestled within the muck and mire. I wear jeans and a hard hat and steel-toed boots every day, and so should she. For a week now she has come in wearing things fine enough for a 9:00 dinner at a five star restaurant. One outfit in particular has a jacket that falls past her knees and catches the slightest wind when she’s outside. Others in my department have taken to calling it her Dracula costume. She confided in me today that she’s been wearing nice things to work because it represents the new her. She told me that she’s lost seventy pounds in the past year, and she wants to start showing it off.

May the Fates spare me whatever appropriate punishment there is for my transgression, but even after being informed of her weight loss, I could not see it on her. The Mouth is a substantial woman. I’m pleased that she’s been able to do this for herself and I am certainly not going to be the one to tell her how far she has to go yet; there’d be no purpose served in that kind of demoralization. I complimented her on her new self, and congratulated her on her reduced cholesterol and improved blood sugar readings. I hate getting glimpses of people when they’re open and vulnerable. You just know that something’s going to stomp them down eventually, and you don’t want to be around when it happens. The guilt is only compounded when it’s someone you don’t like.

There are days I think I am a bad person. There are nights when I’m sure of it.

I was given the job Friday of getting a certain set of error ratings down for a department I do work in. The ratings deal with something that I don’t usually get involved with, but I honestly hadn’t realized that there was a problem in that area. The way the job was assigned, The Big Boss made it sound like oversight of this had always been my job. I have to admit, that was a news flash.

This morning I pulled the numbers, hoping to find a specific area or areas where the problem could be addressed for some easy fixes. I was shocked to learn that we are not only in compliance in this area, but significantly below industry standards. I took the report to the Big Boss and showed him that the numbers were in fact very pretty. He acted like he’d never said there was a problem. Go figure.

I saw Dr. Heart this afternoon. Things seem to have settled down quite nicely in that department. My blood pressure was normal (and my blood pressure is never normal). There was no detectable arrythmia, all lung fields clear, no reason to return. The Verapamil has apparently gotten everything stabilized, after nearly twelve months. I’ll probably be on the stuff for the rest of my life, but it’s a fair trade. At least there aren’t a lot of side effects from it.

Friday it’s Dr. Ultrasound and then Dr. Squish-a-Boob. Can’t say I look forward to either one much, but at least it makes for a short work day on Friday. I’ll take whatever solace I can from that.